


It Would Be Different and You Know It Will

by Telesilla



Series: I've a Feeling It's Time to Try [1]
Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Baseball, Drunken Confessions, First Time, M/M, San Francisco Giants, Sexual Inexperience, Wordcount: 5.000-15.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buster's gay, repressed, inexperienced and really quite confused about it all. Hunter's straight, but that's not going to keep him from helping Buster out a little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Would Be Different and You Know It Will

**Author's Note:**

> Once again--all cecilaregent's fault. No really, it's totally her fault. She mentioned wanting gay, repressed Buster and heteroflexible, helpful Hunter and--several months later--here it is.

Buster is usually hilarious when he's drunk. He doesn't do it often, but when he does, he gets huggy and really really happy. The first time Hunter heard him yell, "I love this whole fucking team!" they'd just clinched the division. Hunter had a mouthful of champagne at time and he'd damn near died choking on it. By the time they're jumping around like idiots in Detroit, Hunter's seen Buster drunk a few more times. It's still funny, because really, if Buster could be like this sober, Hunter wouldn't have been the one giving speeches before all those post-season games.

At the same time, it's kind of sad that it takes booze to get Buster to say stuff like that. He's so...contained. Sometimes Hunter wonders what he does for fun, if he even knows how to have fun. Maybe if his marriage had lasted, he'd be more relaxed, a looser guy. Then again, he's Buster and you kind of have to take him as he is. Hunter's not sure what a relaxed Buster would look like.

There's not much to celebrate in the 2013 season. Buster signs a huge fucking contact, but Hunter doesn't hear anything about him going out on the town. Hunter has his own stuff to worry about; he loves playing in San Francisco and, like Buster, he loves this whole fucking team. But he's a free agent at the end of the year and he's kind of streaky in the first half of the season. He doesn't even know where he'll be next year. He doesn't even know where he'll be the second half of the season.

And then, only weeks before the trade deadline, on a random night in mid-July, Tim proves why you play the game, why the game is fun.

It's San Diego; they know where to go to celebrate. And after watching Buster hugging Timmy with that huge grin, yeah, Hunter's looking forward to seeing him get happy again.

Only, it seems that, unlike beer and champagne, bourbon doesn't have quite the same effect. Hunter gets lost in the party for a while and then the whirlwind tosses him out and he lands on a stool at the bar next to Buster.

"Hey," Hunter says. "Great party, yeah?"

"Huh...oh yeah." Buster is staring at his glass.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Buster says. "Too much on an empty stomach."

"I dunno, I haven't heard you declare your love for all of us yet."

"Funny," Buster says. He picks up his glass and empties it. "God...you have no idea."

To Hunter's surprise, Buster gestures at the bartender.

"You sure?" she says and her tone of voice tells Hunter's this isn't Buster's second or even third.

"Yeah, I'm fucking sure," Buster snaps.

"Okay no," Hunter says to the bartender. He's not entirely ready to leave the party but fuck it. He needs to get Buster out of here before he passes out or pukes or both. "You want more, I've got a bottle back in my room. But you need to stop before I need help getting you back to the hotel."

"Fuck you."

"Okay, who do you want...Vogey? Cain? Because I'll go get them."

"What I want is...." Buster shakes his head and slides off the stool. "Fine."

"You gonna barf," Hunter says. "Do it before we get in the cab."

"Not gonna barf," Buster says. "Cast iron stomach."

"If you say so."

"Tim," Buster says once they're in a cab. "Timmy Tim Tim. Big Time Timmy Jim. Think this'll get him all the way back on track?"

"Dude, if I knew how to stop a slump...."

"You were good tonight...that play was really fucking good. Looked a little like a weasel or what was it? What Belt said? A ferret...but it was good."

"Thanks for that. Don't tell Kuip or next thing you know there'll be hats." It's possible Hunter's not entirely sober himself

"Nah...mean it. Good play 'n' you got some hits." Buster leans against Hunter. "You're a good guy...fun guy."

"You gonna tell me you love me next?"

"Fuck you," Buster snarls, pulling away. "I'm not gay."

"Whoa," Hunter says, because what the hell? "Never said you were."

"'m not," Buster says again, but this time he sounds like a sulky little kid insisting he's not tired.

"Okay," Hunter says.

By the time they reach the hotel, Buster's apparently forgotten that he was angry at Hunter. And, for a guy who just insisted he wasn't gay, he's pretty clingy. Then again he's also really drunk and Hunter's all that's between Buster and the floor.

Hunter manages to get him up to the team floor without anyone seeing them and then he's got to pick Buster's wallet off the floor when Buster drops it looking for his key card. Then Buster's not sure which room he's in because of course it's not on the card and finally Hunter gives up.

"C'mon. You can hang out until you remember your room number." Or until he passes out; there are two beds after all.

"You said you had booze," Buster says, flopping back on the bed.

"Yeah, well, I was lying."

"Fucker. What about the mini bar?"

"What is up with you?" Hunter says. "It's just first, but you're gonna have to play tomorrow." He gets up and grabs a couple bottles of Powerade he keeps in the mini fridge. "Here, make do with this."

"You got purple over there?"

Hunter does; he hands Buster a bottle of grape. Buster gulps a third of it down. "Even with this, I'm gonna get drunker before I sober up...I had that last one kinda fast. Okay maybe the last two. I dunno."

"Dude, is something wrong?" Hunter's not sure if asking was a good idea or not. If something is wrong, how's Hunter going to help a divorced father of two with his problems?

"Not really," Buster says. "I mean my pitchers have been struggling all year and we're being nibbled to death by the DL, but yeah everything's fine. I caught a fucking no hitter tonight."

And God isn't that just like Buster. He would take the weight of the team on his shoulders. "Better'n being no hit," Hunter says.

"At least it was Bailey," Buster says. "I'd have just killed myself or something if it had been fucking Latos. Fucker."

"You won the last round with him."

"Yeah, I did. Grand fucking slam. Right over his name," Buster says with a big shit-eating grin. "That was fucking epic."

Hunter laughs. He's never heard Buster brag like this. "Yeah, it was."

Buster drinks more Powerade and then puts the bottle on the nightstand. He closes his eyes and after a moment, Hunter's pretty sure he's asleep. Good, he thinks. Let him sleep through the worst of it.

"You ever have something you want but can't want?"

So, not asleep then.

"Now that I have a ring on it...no, not really. But when I was on the Astros, I never thought I'd have that."

"No, not like that."

Hunter wonders if this is about Buster's divorce. He wasn't even with the club when it happened and it's not like Buster, or anyone else, talks about it. Having watched numerous baseball marriages crash and burn, Hunter's assumed it was the usual accelerated by Buster's injury.

"Never told anyone...." Buster sighs and falls silent for a long moment. "I think I'm gay."

Okay then. Hunter has to think past his surprise, though. Even though Buster's completely and utterly wasted, Hunter knows he needs to word his reply carefully. "That can't be easy for you," he says.

Buster snorts. "Putting it mildly." His eyes are still closed and he goes quiet yet again. This time, though....

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Okay." Hunter pauses. "Drink more Powerade and lemme get you some Tylenol."

"That's it? 'You're queer; here have some Powerade and an aspirin?'" Buster lifts his hand and makes a vague attempt at finger quotes.

"You said you didn't want to talk about it."

"Don't you...aren't you...I mean, most people...."

"I'm not gonna run screaming from the room and I'm not gonna cover up my butt in the locker room, if that's what you're thinking." Hunter pauses. "You're not the only gay guy I've played with."

"Who," Buster begins.

"Yeah no. How're you gonna trust me if I start naming names?"

"'kay," Buster says. "You're a good guy."

"I like to think so."

"Scares me."

"I bet." Buster's not one of the ostentatious God guys, but Hunter has to ask. "Is it a religious thing?"

"Nah...God's got other stuff besides my big gay freak out to worry about."

"That's a good way of looking at it."

"It's...it's a risk. Don't have anything but baseball these days."

It might sound a little pathetic, but no, Hunter totally gets it. He's never had anything but baseball either.

"But really," Buster says, before Hunter can say anything. "It's...what if...I mean...it's kinda gross, you know?"

"I dunno...it's not like dudes don't touch dicks all the time and lots of girls like giving head so that part can't be too disgusting. And you can do anal with girl, both ways if they're adventurous. So yeah, it's a dude, but...."

"I guess...." Buster sighs. "But 'm not a girl."

"Neither are the gay dudes I know. No one has to be the girl."

"But," Buster says. His fists are clenched and in spite of all the bourbon he's had, his body is tense. "What if I...what if I like it?"

Oh, of course. Hunter wonders why he didn't figure it out himself; maybe he's not as sober as he thinks. He wonders how much Buster liked the sex he had with women, if he ever lost control or if it was just kind of a chore.

"It's sex," Hunter says, keeping his voice gentle. "It's supposed to feel good."

"Yeah, but...." Buster sighs and finishes the bottle of Powerade.

"Have you," Hunter begins. "Anything?"

"Watched a little porn," Buster says. "But it makes me feel weird." He drops the bottle on the floor next to the bed and puts his arm over his face.

"I," he says and then stops.

Jesus, Hunter thinks. He wishes he had let Buster have another drink because then he'd be able to have one. Instead, he gets Buster another bottle of Powerade and then settles back down in his chair. He wants to help, so he's just going to have to be patient.

"Once...after I, you know, jerked off. I kinda tasted it?"

Resisting the urge to tell Buster that everyone does that, Hunter just says, "you didn't like it?"

"Wasn't as gross as I thought it would be but...."

"You never kissed anyone after they blew you?"

"What? No!"

"Huh. It's kind of hot, like kissing a girl after you go down on them."

"I was never very good at that...going down on her I mean. Really? Honestly? I've never been very good at any of it. At all." Buster sighs. "You're gonna think I'm stupid...I only ever slept with her."

Not stupid, Hunter thinks. Just kind of sad. Buster, usually so self-contained and mature for his age, suddenly seems very young.

"You never tried with anyone else? Maybe it was just that you two didn't have chemistry."

"When I was in school...in Florida? On my birthday the guys had a stripper come to the party." Buster opens up the Powerade and takes a drink. "She was kinda cute...not super trashy, you know? And I...the guys thought I was gonna so we went into my room. God, it's such a fucking nice boy, Boy Scout cliche. We talked. I just didn't want to, might not have been able to if I tried. With Kristen...at least I loved her."

"I'm sorry," Hunter says after a moment. He's met Kristen a couple of times; she's pretty and seems nice enough. She and Buster act like they're still friends, but Hunter wonders how much of that is just for the cameras.

"Don't be. There's a guy she likes...he's good with the kids. At least one of us can find a man."

Hunter can't help laughing a little. "Dude, if finding a man was your only problem...well, you wouldn't have a problem. Stroll down Castro on any given day and you'd probably get forty phone numbers."

"Wish it was that easy."

"Yeah me too," Hunter says.

"Are you...?"

"Nah, just open minded. I wish it was easy for you."

"Oh." Buster sits up, but only to take his shoes off. Once he's flopped back down on the bed, his arm goes over his face again. "I don't even know if I am...okay no. I do know. But what am I gonna do now?"

"You think about guys when you jerk off?"

"Yeah. Kinda makes it worse though. I mean...it's more...more something."

"Intense? Better?"

"Yeah."

"You don't have any gay friends?"

"Not that I know of. Do I?"

Hunter sighs, but before he can say anything, Buster holds up a hand. "I know...can't tell me."

It's a pity, because Buster has a least one bi friend that Hunter knows about and a couple more teammates who are either gay or bi.

"Are you looking for...what? A fuck buddy? A boyfriend? A husband?"

"How do I know? I don't even know if I can even touch another guy's dick without freaking out."

"You've never even...?" Hunter's not sure how to ask. "I mean you just stick to just jacking off?"

"Huh? Yeah, just said so."

Fine, Hunter thinks. Buster's too drunk for subtlety. "You don't have any toys? You haven't even done anything with your fingers?"

For a moment, Hunter's sure he's going to wake up any second now, because this is one seriously weird dream. There can't be any other explanation for how he got here, in a hotel room in San Diego, asking Buster fucking Posey if he's ever stuck a finger or two up his ass.

"I um...once? I tried, I mean. I couldn't."

"Too weird?"

"Too scared. more like. Pathetic, isn't it?"

"No," Hunter says. "But it's...you shouldn't be doing this--going through this--alone." Even as he says it, he's telling his brain to shut the fuck up because there is no way he's going to open his mouth and offer to be some confused gay boy's....

"If you want to experiment, I'll help." he says quietly. "I'm not coming on to you. Well I am, but only if you want me to."

There's a long silence and Hunter's calling himself all kinds of idiot, because way to screw up the team and, possibly, a friendship.

"Thought you said you weren't gay."

"I'm not," Hunter says, encouraged by the fact that Buster sounds more thoughtful than angry. "But I don't have to be gay or even very bi to help you out."

"You would...why?"

"Because you're a friend and...."

"And you feel sorry for me," Buster says with a resigned sigh.

"Actually, yeah, I do. And before you say anything, it's not exactly a pity fuck."

"Sounds like it to me."

"Yeah well, like I said, you shouldn't have to figure this out on your own."

"Huh." Buster finally moves his arm. Going up on one elbow, he looks at Hunter. "But if you're straight, how do you even know...."

"I'm guessing you've never heard the phrase 'bend over boyfriend?'"

"Um...no?"

"Means I've had an adventurous girlfriend who has a wide selection of toys." When Buster still looks puzzled, Hunter smiles at him. "I've been fucked by a girl with a strap on. I've also sucked some silicon dick. Not the real thing, but I'm willing to give that a try."

"And if I want...."

"If you want anything," Hunter says. "You're going to have to think about it over the break and get back to me when you're not totally wasted."

"Oh," Buster says and now he can make one syllable sound both relieved and disappointed, Hunter's not sure.

"Not to say we can't have a beer or two, when...if we do. But I'm going to leave this up to you. If you don't mention this again, that's fine. If all you want is a sympathetic ear, that's fine too."

"And if I want a sympathetic dick?"

Hunter can't help laughing. "That too."

Buster laughs with him for a moment. "C'mere?"

Hunter gets up and then sits on the bed next to Buster. "I dunno if I'm gonna ask you or not but...." He reaches out and puts his hand over Hunter's. "It means...you have no idea."

"Most I can do, really."

"Will you...?" Buster looks up at him, his eyes wide and bites his lip. And Hunter, who wasn't going to agree to anything Buster would regret when sober, takes a deep breath and hopes Buster won't hate him in the morning.

"Yeah," he says and bends down.

It's a sweet kiss; Hunter opens his mouth a little but doesn't do more than that. Buster presses his mouth against Hunter's and doesn't use tongue either.

"You wanna stay the night?" Hunter says. "Everyone knows you were plastered last night and people saw you leaving with me. No one's gonna think anything but that you passed out in my room."

"Didn't Belt pass out in your room a while back?"

"Yeah and Romo that one time last year. Everyone who's passed out in my room has left with their virtue intact." Hunter's not about to explain that Belt, at least, would have been happy to compromise Hunter's virtue, but he'd just grinned and promised to buy breakfast instead when Hunter turned him down.

Buster leans up and kisses him again. "Thanks."

By the time Hunter's brushed his teeth and changed into a pair of sweats, Buster's under the covers, fast asleep. He left his clothes on, but his belt's on the floor next to his shoes. With his face relaxed and the covers pulled up under his chin, he looks like he's still a kid dreaming of nothing but baseball.

* * *

Buster, it turns out, doesn't suffer from hangovers. He's gone by the time Hunter wakes up, but when they meet in the hotel restaurant during breakfast, Buster looks like he'd gone to sleep in his own room before midnight. Sober.

"I hate you so much," Bum is mumbling as Hunter joins them. He's squinting and his accent is so thick Hunter can hardly understand him.

"We hate you," Belt says. "The whole team hates you, Posey. Individually and as a collective." He's slumped against Bum; together they look like a couple of minor leaguers at the end of a long bus ride.

Thanks to the Powerade and a handful of Motrin he took before sleeping, Hunter feels as well as can be expected after a night of booze, not enough sleep and a drunken teammate's big gay confession.

Buster's pretending to ignore Bum and Belt, but he looks up from the huge plate of food in front of him to smile at Hunter. "Thanks for getting me out of the bar last night."

"If I'd known you wouldn't be feeling it this morning," Hunter says. "I'd have left you there." He reaches for Buster's coffee cup. "I'll take my payment in coffee."

"Don't," Bum says. "It'll rot your teeth. He uses, what, like five sugars?"

"Only three," Buster says, putting a hand protectively over his coffee cup.

"Fat ass," Bum says.

"Like you have room to talk, with all that junk you have in your trunk lately," Belt says, nudging Bum and laughing at his own joke.

"Keep your goddamn elbows to yourself, you motherfucker, or I'm gonna puke in your lap."

"Awwww," Belt says. "I knew you loved me."

"Anyone seen Vogey?" Hunter says.

"Why?" Buster asks.

"Because I don't want to eat breakfast at the kids' table."

"It's okay," Buster says gesturing at Bum and Belt. "Just look at us; we're the cool kids."

Hunter looks from Buster, who's wearing an ugly blue and white plaid shirt, to Bum, who's wearing an ugly grey and white checked shirt. Belt looks a little less like he should have hay in his hair, but his white t-shirt with thin black stripes is either a little too tight or he's really cold. "No one at this table," Hunter says, "is a cool kid by any stretch of the imagination."

"Hey, Dad, when your breakfast comes, can I have your toast?" Belt asks.

By the time they hunker down in the visitor's dugout at Petco, Hunter's beginning to think that everyone should hate Buster today. The rest of team looks horribly hungover and Boch doesn't even bother with sending them out to batting practice. It's kind of ironic, Hunter thinks as they get ready to take the field in the bottom of the first. Buster's doing much better than Quiroz, but Quiroz is behind the plate and Buster's "resting" at first.

As for their starting pitcher...back when people were suiting up in the locker room, Hunter had seen Tim passing Zito a bottle of Visine. Pablo and Crawford's eyes are a little red too; clearly the party moved to Zito's suite at one point or another.

Sadly, Zito pitches like a guy who stayed up all night smoking weed on top of mixed drinks. He gets pulled in the third and Boch sends a steady stream of relievers out there. Not that it matters any; the position players aren't hitting any better than the pitchers are pitching. The Padres, on the other hand, are clearly looking for a little payback for the last two games and they get it. In the end, the Giants have to content themselves with taking the series and the memory of Tim's no-hitter.

All in all, it's not the worst way to go into the break, but it isn't the best. Hunter's finding it hard to reach for his usual optimism; the team is, as Kruk has already said more than once, out of whack. Pagan's injury is making itself felt more and more each game and when the pitchers do have good games, they're not getting the run support they need. All Hunter can do is hope the Giants don't feel like they're sellers as the trade deadline inches closer and closer.

He's sitting on his brother's couch, one of his nephews on one side, his niece on the other, when his phone buzzes. They're watching the Home Run Derby, or rather, Hunter's watching it. The kids are asleep and Hunter has to juggle Hayley a little to even get his phone out of his pocket. He looks at the screen--Buster.

"Hey," he says quietly.

"Are you enjoying the show?" Buster asks.

"I'm riveted," Hunter says. "Only people here who are more excited are the kids and they're both asleep."

"I wish I was. Asleep, I mean."

"You guys got in pretty late?"

"Yeah, it was three by the time I hit the sack. And then...can you fucking believe this? We did the stupid press thing and some fucking reporter asked if I had any parenting advice for Will and Kate.

"Oh, you are kidding me."

"I know. I didn't say 'don't get divorced, but it was a close thing." Buster sighs. "This is stupid, you know? I'm in a pissy mood and I don't want to spoil it for the guys."

"Yeah, I get it." Hunter says. Both Bum and Romo have a pretty good shot at being All Stars again, but Scoots? Not so much.

"Jesus, I'm an asshole," Buster says. "Sorry for calling and complaining about being an All Star."

"Dude, it's okay. That was a shitty question to ask you and I don't blame you for being pissy."

"Look," Buster says, lowering his voice. "I thought a lot on the plane and I can't believe you offered."

"I meant it."

"I know you did. I was drunk, but not blackout drunk." Buster pauses.

"Where are you?" 

"There's a little cubbyhole thing off the home locker room here at Citi."

"Still," Hunter says, glancing down at the sleeping kids. "Not the best place to talk about this."

"Maybe not but I didn't want you to think...to think I didn't remember. To think it didn't mean something."

Hunter hadn't thought he was worrying much about it, but he can feel his shoulders loosen up a little. Before he can say anything, Buster starts talking again.

"When I get home, I mean home in San Francisco, I want to talk."

"How about Thursday after practice? We can go grab some food at some nice, neutral setting."

"Okay."

"Hey, Buster?"

"Yeah?"

"Relax." Hunter says. "Take some deep breaths and go insult Bum or something. It'll be okay."

"Insulting Bum is like...I'd say it's like shooting fish in a barrel but since he actually brought fishing rods to New York anything I say would be kind of anticlimactic."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Buster voice changes a little, gets louder. "It's because he's a fucking _hick_."

Hunter laughs and he's not surprised when Bum's voice cuts in. "I'm totally a fucking hick. Who am I talking to anyway?"

"Pablo," Hunter says in a reasonable imitation of Sandoval.

Apparently his accent is too twangy, because Bum says, "Yeah, no. Is that you, Belt?"

Knowing what he knows, Hunter could probably mess with someone's head here, but no. "Wrong Texan, asshole."

"Oh hey, Pence. Did you hear how Verlander thinks he should have been in the Derby? How many fucking homers does he have?"

"Not as many as you."

"Damn right. Dude doesn't even have as many fucking hits as I do. Hell, I think Sandoval has more homers off Verlander than Verlander has off anyone in his whole career."

"Am I gonna get my phone back any time soon?" Buster's voice is muffled but still audible.

"Nah...let's go find Romes."

"Let's not." Buster yells even louder.

"Wow, you guys really aren't the cool kids," Hunter says.

"Bum's such a fucking asshole," Buster says, having apparently wrestled his phone back from Bum.

"I thought you loved this whole fucking team."

"Yeah," Buster says and Hunter can almost hear him grinning. "I kinda do. Talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay," Hunter says. "You guys have a good game tomorrow."

They don't, of course. None of the Giants on the team even play and the most interesting, and Hunter has to admit, the most moving thing that happens is Mariano Rivera taking the field to "Enter the Sandman."

"That man," Hunter says to the kids, "is the very definition of a class act. If you can be like him, you'll do okay in life."

They're all too young to get it, but Howie looks over at Hunter and grins. "Better Mo than you."

"Well duh," Hunter says, rolling his eyes.

* * *

Buster looks tired on Thursday, but he suits up for practice even though Boch says it's optional. Cain's pitching on Saturday and Bum on Sunday, so Buster's catching a full side session with Cain and a lighter session with Bum. Hunter settles down to stretch out with Belt.

"How was your break?"

"Good," Hunter says. "Spent it with my brother and his family. Three days with three kids...it's just about the right amount of time."

"I dunno how people do it," Belt says. "Not to say you wouldn't be a good dad."

"Thanks, but not any time soon. Too much baseball left to do." Hunter glances over to where Bum's yelling what's probably useless and annoying advice to Cain.

"How was your break?" he asks Belt. "Did the three of you actually do any fishing? Because that story about the fishing rods was...."

"Useful? Inspired? Stupid?" Belt shrugs a little. "We went out one afternoon, but nobody caught anything. Ali and me didn't even do any fishing and Bum only pretended to."

"Hmmmm...."

"What?"

Hunter shakes his head. "Kinda complicated, isn't it?"

"Not really," Belt says. He glances over at Bum and then shrugs again. "Baseball first," he says. "Team first."

"Yeah," Hunter says.

"No, seriously," Belt says. "I mean it. It's fun, but we could stop tomorrow and we'd still be friends. All of us."

Hunter nods, but he feels old again. Since when, he thinks, is he the designated GLBT friendly veteran? Seriously, does he have a sign on his back or something? At least, he thinks, looking over at Tim, who's leaning on the rail chatting with Gaudin, he didn't have to deal with Tim's big gay freakout. Then again, Tim's pretty mellow. He probably never had one.

How on earth Buster hasn't figured Tim out, Hunter doesn't know. Then again Tim hasn't figured Buster out, and he's actively looking, near as Hunter can tell. _It's like Queer as Fucking Baseball around here._

"What?" Belt says.

"Just thinking."

Belt follows Hunter's gaze. "You gonna suddenly bat for us?"

"If I ever do, won't be Timmy," Hunter says. And hey, he's even being honest.

"Good, because I saw you first."

"Yup," Hunter says, smacking him on the leg with a glove. "I only have eyes for you." He stands up. "C'mon baby, let's do some long toss."

As they start tossing to each other, Hunter glances over at Buster. He's still working with Cain and to look at him, intent but relaxed in his crouch, you'd think the conversation in San Diego never happened.

Fuck it, Hunter thinks. Time to play some baseball or at least practice playing baseball.

After about a half hour of long toss and more stretching and fielding practice, Scutaro strolls over to Pence. "Quiet today," he says.

"Yeah," Pence says, looking around. No one's actually moping and Tim's even horsing around with Pablo a little, but still....

"Everyone looks like they're working," he says, knowing Scutaro will get it.

Scutaro looks around too. "Don't see the ground crew anywhere," he says.

"Really?" Hunter grins at him. "And there's no one in the stands."

"Maybe we should ask...nah."

At least the regular position players have actually played pepper before and so they know what they're doing when Scutaro and Hunter start issuing orders. As people line up, Hunter sees Buster looking toward the dugout. "Jesus," Hunter says. "The first rule of sneaking out to smoke behind the gym is to look like you're not sneaking."

"It's okay," Buster says. "Looks like Flan's heading them off."

"And Kruk's in the yard," Hunter says. "He loves him some pepper. He'll talk Boch into letting us do it or at least give him an excuse not to pay attention."

After about 45 minutes, everyone's laughing like little leaguers and Mark Gardner's had come out to ride herd on the pitchers to keep them from joining in. They all settle for heckling and damn, they're a rough crowd.

"Hey!"

Everyone stops what they're doing and pretends to look at the ground so they don't notice that Boch is grinning like an idiot. "Get the hell out of here and let the grounds crew do their jobs."

People mumble things and pick up their gear and head toward the clubhouse.

"Outta fine you two," Bochy says looking at Hunter and then over at Scutaro.

"Tell me who to write the check to," Hunter says.

Boch rolls his eyes and trudges off for a moment before turning back around. "Thanks," he says.

* * *

 

"That was a good idea," Buster says a little while later. They're settled into a dark booth in a steak joint near the park. It's a nice place, and the wait staff know the players and know enough to leave them alone. "It wouldn't have occurred to me."

"Yeah, well," Hunter says. "You've...."

"What?"

"You've never played for teams that forget how to have fun now and then."

Buster's quiet for a moment. "Word in the clubhouse is I don't know how to have fun."

"Do you?"

"Do you?" Buster asks. "Beyond baseball?"

"I game," Hunter says.

"We all game," Buster says. "Do better."

Hunter can't help laughing. "Point to you."

"My life isn't total crap, you know. You're not saving me from, oh I dunno...."

"A life of woe?"

"You play too much WoW." Buster butters his bread and takes a big bite. "But I'm not totally miserable."

"I didn't think you were. Only...."

"Only?"

"Lonely." Before Buster can say anything, Hunter shakes his head. "You're not the only one."

"Don't you have a girlfriend?"

"I currently have a friend who is a girl. We're not together any more."

"I'm sorry."

"Baseball," Hunter says.

"Yeah." Buster finishes his bread and takes another piece. "Are you looking for...someone?"

"Yeah, but, if you don't mind me saying so...."

Buster glances around. "Not me?"

He doesn't sound at all disappointed. "Not you. And if I was still with Savannah? I'd have made the same offer I did last week. We weren't very exclusive."

"Does that work?"

"Depends. Mostly I've learned that it means she'll find someone who's around more often."

"That's rough."

"Not really. It's not like...."

"Like me and Kristen?"

"I don't know." Hunter pauses as the server delivers their salads. "I don't know what happened."

"Scott Cousins happened," Buster says. "Right in top of an unplanned pregnancy...yeah its funny, right? Everyone thinks we got our celebrating on right after the Series, and it's true. We were drunk and I forgot to use a rubber." He eats a bite of salad. "And of course there's the fact that I never wanted to have sex or at least not until I'd had a few beers. Another funny thing because you always hear about wives who don't really want to after you've been married for a while. Never hear about it happening the other way."

"That's...a lot for a marriage to take."

"Yeah. To be fair, I honestly didn't know about myself when we got married."

"Not everyone figures it out right away."

"Yeah." Buster gives him a look. "I'm kinda fucked up about this."

"You are," Hunter says. "But don't be so hard on yourself. You're twenty-five for God's sake. No one expects you to have it all figured out. I haven't yet."

"Yeah and you're _old_."

Hunter snorts a little sarcastically. "Ancient."

"But really, do you really want to...I don't know, deal with me and my issues?"

"Depends on what you mean by deal with." Hunter takes a deep breath. "Look, I'll be honest here. If you're gonna imprint on me like a baby duck, then we have a problem. I'm willing to be your friend, I'm even willing to help you figure out some of the sex stuff, but like I said, I'm not looking for a boyfriend."

To Hunter's relief, Buster nods. "Makes sense. Look right now, what I mostly need is someone who will listen and and not bullshit me."

"Just listen?"

"I said mostly."

Again they're interrupted by the server. Hunter's steak is perfect and he and Buster spend several minutes just eating. At least, Hunter thinks, when you eat with other ball players, you're not likely to have someone talk about how much you eat. Hunter's pretty sure his sister-in-law was mostly joking, but it got old.

"So," he says once they're both slowing down. "Mostly?"

"I...yeah." Buster bites his lip; his eyes wide. "I don't want it to be weird...well I don't want us to be weird. But I need to know if I can do...things."

"Okay." Hunter sighs. "Buster? Breathe."

"Yeah," Buster says with a shaky little laugh. "Sorry."

"That's the next thing. Let's call it lesson number one. Don't apologize. I mean if you flail and break my nose, you can apologize. But not for being nervous and not for not knowing what you're doing."

"I should know what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well you don't." Hunter gives Buster a wry smile. "Too honest?"

"You gonna act like a fucking batting instructor the whole time?"

"I dunno, you gonna let me correct your swing?"

Buster laughs. "Point to you."

By the time Hunter's had a cup of coffee and Buster's polished off a thick slice of cheesecake, they've spent a half hour talking about hitting. It's a comfortable conversation and Hunter has a feeling his friendship with Buster is going to be like this--ranging from easy and comfortable to him reminding Buster to breathe.

Speaking of which....

"You want to come by my place?"

And yeah, Buster tenses up again. "Tonight?"

"If you want. Or you can stress about it until...." Hunter trails off as he thinks of the schedule. "After the series with the Reds."

"Good point; I think we're all going to collapse after that series." Buster finishes off his Coke and then nods. "Okay."

After they've argued about who picks up the check--Buster wins the coin toss--Hunter gives Buster his address. "Meet you over there."

One look at Buster's face when he shows up at Hunter's place shows Hunter how Buster's planning on approaching this; his jaw is set and his chin's up a little. Okay then, Hunter thinks. Grim determination it is.

"You want a beer?" he asks a few moments later. Hunter's apartment is open plan; from the kitchen, he can see Buster standing in front of big picture window in the living room. He's staring at the bay, hands stuffed in his pockets and his back rigid.

"Um...yeah."

He doesn't turn around when Hunter brings him a beer. "Trying to breathe," he says after taking the first drink.

"Okay," Hunter says. "Can I touch you?"

"Now? Um...yeah."

"It's okay," Hunter says, putting a hand on the small of Buster's back. "And anyway," he adds, giving Buster a tiny push. "I just wanted to show you...over there." He points past Buster toward a corner of the window. "You can see the park from here."

It's not the best view of AT&T but you can see the brick facade where it turns just along the left field line. "If the line of sight were a little better," Hunter says. "You'd be able to see the Coke bottle."

"Still, it's pretty cool," Buster says. Hunter can hear him gulp down some more beer, but he doesn't move when Hunter brings his arm down and curls it around Buster's waist. "Is this what you'd do," Buster says and then pauses and clears his throat. "Is this what you'd do with a girl?"

"It's what I'm doing with you." Hunter strokes Buster's lower back. "You wanted honesty, right? If I were with a girl who was this nervous, I'd back off and give her some space. Do you need me to do that?"

Buster sighs. "I don't know, I...I just don't know." He drinks more beer and then holds up the empty bottle. "Not that I'm nervous or anything."

"You want another one?" Hunter wraps his other arm around Buster's waist and moves a little closer behind him. "One more...maybe a third later. But...."

"It's okay. I don't want to be drunk for this." Buster's still tense but when Hunter spreads his hand out across Buster's stomach, he sighs a little and relaxes. "It's me," Buster says. "And not the beer. I want it to be me."

"Okay," Hunter leans down a little. "Gonna kiss you," he says and then does, pressing his lips to the back of Buster's neck.

Buster shivers hard and reaches down to to clutch at Hunter's forearm with his hand. Wow, Hunter thinks. It's not what he was expecting, but he's happy to go with it. He keeps kissing Buster's neck, moving along his hairline, and Buster gasps and leans back against Hunter's chest.

Hunter had kind of evaded Buster's earlier question because, yes, this is the kind of thing he does with girls. Then again, he also likes it when girls kiss or play with the back of his own neck, so it seemed like a good place to start. Clearly, he was right.

Pressing forward a little, Hunter uses the hand on Buster's stomach to pull Buster back against him. As he expected, Buster tenses up again once Hunter comes into contact with his ass. Hunter's only half hard, but it won't take much to get him all the way there, which is a bit of a relief. He'd been pretty sure he'd be able to get it up, but it's nice to know for sure.

"This good?" he asks, keeping his mouth on Buster's skin.

"Yeah," Buster says. "I...kinda feel stupid holding this fucking bottle though."

Hunter laughs and Buster shivers again. "Okay," Hunter says, stepping back. "Gimme that."

He takes the bottle and can hear Buster cough a little when he turns and puts it on an end table. When he turns back, Buster's facing him, his cheeks pink. "I...it felt good."

"Yeah, my neck's pretty sensitive too." He smiles at Buster who gives him a sort of "what now" look. "Whatever you want," Hunter says. "We can keep standing up or we can sit on the couch or...."

Buster's chin goes up again and Hunter's not surprised when he says, "or we could go into your bedroom."

"We could do that," Hunter says. He points toward the hall. "Last door on the left. I want to get some water."

Buster's sitting on the bed taking off his his shoes when Hunter comes into the bedroom. "Sorry," Buster says and then rolls his eyes. "I know, I know. But I just...I keep tensing up. This can't be any fun for you."

"It's not that bad." Hunter puts the water bottles on his nightstand and sits down to take off his own shoes. "I kind of have this thing about making it good for someone."

"Damn, women must love you."

"I get by," Hunter says with a chuckle. "It's fun to make someone happy. I like giving people presents too."

"Am I gonna get flowers? Or chocolates?"

"The amount of sugar you eat? Chocolates. I'm guessing you can be had for the good stuff."

"Have you had the sundaes they sell at the park? I had one down at Ghirardelli Square...thought I'd died and gone to heaven."

"Waaaay too much processed sugar for me." Hunter sits on the bed and looks at Buster with a smile.

"What?"

"Three quarters of the people in this city would kill to be here with you."

It's the wrong thing to say; Buster crosses his arms over his chest and scowls. "Yeah, well...."

"Dude," Hunter says. "It was my way of saying that you're hot."

"Oh. It's a...thing. Everyone says so and I dunno...I just see this guy in the mirror, you know?"

"Yeah," Hunter says. "Part of your appeal, to be honest. I mean in general, not just what makes you hot or makes people want to sex you up. It's obvious that you know you're a good ball player, but you don't think that makes you better than the people around you."

"It doesn't."

"No it doesn't. I like that about our clubhouse, to be honest. Everyone seems to be like that."

"Yeah" Buster's smiling again and he slides back on the bed until he can lie down. "Can I...will you kiss me?"

"Yeah," Hunter says. He leans down like he did the other night and, just like the other night, he keeps it nice and easy. He kind of expects Buster to be a little more aggressive, expects him to try to lead, but he doesn't. When Hunter runs his tongue over Buster's lip, Buster sighs and opens his mouth a little more.

It's like high school, Hunter thinks as they kiss. He might know what he's doing, but he doesn't really, because Buster might be as nervous as any girl her first time, but he's not a girl.

By the time they get serious about the kissing, any lingering worries Hunter had about being able to get it up are gone. He's still leaning over Buster and when he moves in closer to press up against Buster's side, Buster gasps into his mouth and tenses up.

"Unexpected dick?" Hunter says.

"Yeah." Buster laughs a little. He reaches out and rests his hand on Hunter's hip.

"It's okay," Hunter says.

It comes as a surprise when Buster pushes his hip, but Hunter rolls over onto his back. Buster goes up on his elbow and looks down at him. "Can I?" he asks, his hand still resting on Hunter's hip.

"That's why we're here," Hunter says.

He barely feels it when Buster runs his fingers across his fly. Buster's cheeks are pink but he looks as serious as he does coming up to bat. His touch gets firmer and his breath hitches as he strokes Hunter's dick.

"You don't have to...."

"No, it's not that," Buster say, his face getting even pinker. "This is...I didn't think I could do this and it's...." He fumbles with Hunter's belt. "I like it."

"Okay," Hunter says, not pointing out that Buster's still having a hard time breathing. "Want me to?" he asks, resting a hand over Buster's.

"Yeah." Buster sits back and surprises Hunter by taking his shirt and t-shirt off as Hunter undoes his belt.

"Are we getting naked here?"

Buster takes a deep breath. "Um...how about mostly?"

"Fair enough," Hunter says, sitting up.

They've seen each other naked a lot, but the way Buster looks at Hunter's chest, makes it pretty clear that Buster's been keeping his eyes to himself. You're supposed to, of course, but no one does. Buster reaches out and then pauses, his hand close enough to Hunter's abs that Hunter can feel the warmth of it.

"Is it okay?"

"Yeah, just don't go too light; I'm ticklish."

"Buy me chocolate," Buster says with a little smile. "And I won't tell anyone." He puts his hand on Hunter's stomach, his fingers resting on the cut of Hunter's abs. "You're...you've got the best abs."

Before Hunter can answer, Buster slides his hand down a little. Hunter's pants are still zipped, but his belt's off; he leans back on his hands and waits to see what Buster will do.

"This is stupid," Buster says, as he unbuttons Hunter's fly. "I shouldn't be like this. It's not like I haven't seen dicks before."

"Not with intent," Hunter says. Buster doesn't even smile and Hunter reaches down to rest a hand on top of Buster's. "Don't force yourself...."

"If I don't, I never will."

"Buster," Hunter begins, but then he looks at Buster and falls silent. Buster's eyes are wide, and he clearly needs to be in control of the situation. Hunter leans back again and watches Buster deal with his fly.

Buster doesn't stop there, he tugs at Hunter's waistband until Hunter lifts up and lets Buster pull his jeans down. Hunter's wearing plain gray boxer briefs and he's fully hard, his dick straining against the front of his shorts.

"Breathe," Hunter says and Buster gives a nervous laugh.

"I know this is fucking awkward," Buster says. "But...um...wow." He reaches down and rests his hand on Hunter's hip, his thumb rubbing the head of Hunter's dick. Hunter's breath catches in his throat and Buster smiles just a little. He curls his fingers around Hunter's cock as much as he can and then strokes it a couple of times--nice easy strokes.

"Wow," Buster says again and to Hunter's surprise, he slides his hand inside Hunter's shorts.

In Hunter's experience there are two ways it can go with someone who's not used to touching a dick. Some girls act like it's made of glass and will break if they do anything but pet it, but Hunter prefers them to the girls who grab and squeeze and pull.

Buster does neither. He's careful but his grip as he slowly jacks Hunter's cock is just about right and just when Hunter feels the faint burn because Buster's hand is so dry, Buster stops. "So," he says, his voice a little rough. "Guess I can touch one."

"Damn right you can," Hunter says. "You're doing just fine."

"Got any lotion?"

"Lube," Hunter says, twisting a little as Buster sits back. Once he's handed Buster the lube, he automatically pulls his shorts down. It's only when he looks up at Buster that he realizes he might have made a mistake. Buster's biting his lip again and he's looking down at the bottle of lube in his hands as if it's the most important thing in the room.

"Uh...sorry," Hunter says. "I got naked too soon, didn't I?"

"No," Buster says quickly. "Well, maybe." He glances at Hunter for a moment and then looks away. "Um...you're kind of big."

"Not really," Hunter says. "About average really. Unless you're really not a grower, I think you're probably bigger."

"You've looked?"

"Everyone looks," Hunter says without thinking about it.

"I don't," Buster says and Hunter, remembering the way Buster looked at him when he took his shirt off, believes him. "I can't...I'm afraid to. I don't know how a gay guy could."

"Is this, what we're doing, going to be a problem? In general I mean. I don't think you're gonna perv on me personally."

"No, I still won't look. I'd have to have a lot more experience before I trust myself."

Not for the first time since this whole situation started, Hunter wishes he could sit Buster down with Tim or Belt or even Bum. But he can't and he won't name names to Buster. Not yet anyway.

"Would it help if I...." he reaches for his shorts.

"No, it's okay." Buster swallows hard and keeps looking at the lube bottle, but he's actually reading the label now. "I always wanted to get some of this."

"Mail order," Hunter says. "Or, these days the grocery store has a pretty good selection, but I'm guessing that's not an option."

"No, it's really not."

"You don't need to use much.'

As if Hunter's words actually reminded Buster why he was holding the lube, Buster opens it up and drips a little of it into his palm. "Wow, yeah," he says, rubbing his fingers together. And then, he bites his lip again--and no, Hunter will not tell him how cute that makes him look--and reaches out toward Hunter's dick.

This time, his hands glides along the shaft and over the head and yeah, Buster might not have ever done this with someone else, but he's had plenty of practice. He's frowning a little, but he looks more puzzled than scared.

"What?" Hunter says.

"It's really weird. I mean, I can do this, which is a huge relief, but...does it feel good?"

"Oh yeah," Hunter says, his voice a little rough.

"Yeah?" Buster twists his hand a little on the next upstroke and Hunter catches his breath. Buster does it again and then again, his brow still furrowed a little.

"Yeah, that's good," Hunter says. He's been trying to hold back, trying to keep his cool so he could make sure Buster didn't freak out, but maybe that's not such a good idea. Not that it matters, he thinks as his hips start rocking up to match Buster's rhythm. Buster's hand on him is a lot bigger than he's used to, but a handjob is a handjob and Buster's giving him a damn good one. "Fuck," Hunter groans.

Buster speeds up and rubs the palm of his other hand over the head of Hunter's cock. "Fuck," Hunter says again. "Oh God...." Girls don't do that right away, they don't know good it feels. "Yeah, that's good," he says. "Really fucking good...."

"God," Buster says and he sounds almost shocked. "This is...God, it feels really good in my hand. Should be the same as mine, but it's not."

After another few strokes, Buster stops.

"Wha...?"

"I um...can I...um...." Buster takes a deep breath and then, before Hunter can say anything, he bends down. Hunter grits his teeth and tries to keep his cool when Buster's tongue slides across the head of his dick. Buster does it again and then his lips move down until he's actually got his mouth around it. It's a little weird, because Buster's not sucking or anything, but it's kind of good too. Hunter closes his eyes, because really, looking down and seeing Buster Posey's mouth on him is kind of fucking strange.

And then Buster's mouth is gone and his hand is gone. "Oh God."

Hunter opens his eyes to see Buster sitting halfway across the bed. He's breathing hard and fast and his eyes are closed and, yeah, he's totally freaking out.

After a couple of deep breaths, Hunter sits up, pulling the sheet over his lap. "Hey," he says, his voice as steady as he can manage. "It's okay."

"No," Buster says. "It's really not."

Oh fuck.

"Tell me what you need," Hunter says.

"Not to be gay!" Buster's still breathing fast and Hunter's starting to get a little worried.

"Okay," he says. "I'm going to touch you, if that's all right." He waits a moment and when Buster doesn't say or do anything, Hunter slowly reaches out and takes Buster's hands in his. "You need to slow down your breathing, okay? You need to concentrate on that, can you do that?"

"Yeah," Buster says, making a visible effort to calm down. He's gripping Hunter's hands tightly enough that it hurts, but his breath is slowing down again, so Hunter ignores the ache in his hands.

"That's right," he says. "That's right...."

"Okay," Buster says once he's breathing normally again. "I think I'm...better."

"Good," Hunter says as Buster lets go of his hands. He grabs for his t-shirt, wipes his hands off and then hands it to Buster. Buster's nose wrinkles a little but then he kind of shrugs and wipes the lube off his own hands.

"You want some water?"

"Please."

Buster drinks a swallow of water and then stares down at the bottle in his hands. "Well," he says. "That went well."

"Actually, it did."

Buster's head snaps up and he stares at Hunter.

"I mean it," Hunter says.

"I guess," Buster says. "I mean it was fine and then all of a sudden...."

"All of a sudden you had someone's dick in your mouth."

"Yeah. I know you said not to apologize but still."

"Honestly, I'd have been surprised if you hadn't freaked out." Hunter reaches out and grips Buster's hand again. "You've tried so hard to not want this. You can't just expect to flip a switch in your head."

"I guess."

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"That you don't want to be gay?"

Buster looks down at their hands. "My life would be a lot easier if I weren't."

"Yeah, it probably would be." When Buster scowls at him, Hunter shrugs a little. "Just now, before you freaked out, when you were only using your hand...you looked like you were enjoying it. You said you liked it."

Buster's face goes pink again. "I did."

"Better than when you do it to yourself?"

"Um...different, like I said. But good."

"You can go back to just jerking off," Hunter says. "I'm not sure you can stop being gay, but you don't have to have gay sex with anyone other than yourself."

"I...uh...." Buster rubs his thumb across the back of Hunter's hand.

"Or, you could just use your hands. You've got really nice hands, you know. And for someone who's never done it before, you give a pretty good handjob."

"I do?"

"Yeah, in case you didn't notice, I was pretty into it."

"Yeah about that...didn't mean to leave you hanging."

Hunter shrugs again. "Like I said, I kind of expected it. I'll live."

"I wish...I wish I hadn't freaked out." Buster sighs. "Do you want me to...."

"Normally, I'd suggest we try to work something out, but tonight isn't about what I want. If you want to go back to jerking me off, that's fine. If you want me to touch you, that's fine. If you want to get dressed and go watch TV, that's fine. I suggest you give yourself a little while before you head out, but if you want to be alone, I've got a guest room."

"If you touched me...what would you do?"

"Whatever you wanted me to. I'd offer a blowjob, but I don't know that I'm any good at it. The times I sucked a strap on were mostly about the visual for her."

"Did you like it?"

"It was hot because she was getting off on it."

"Huh." Buster's silent for a moment.

"Let me ask you something."

"Okay."

"When you jerk off, what do you think about doing?"

Buster opens his mouth and then pauses; Hunter can see the moment when he decides to be honest. "I try not to think about anything but...blowing someone, even though I couldn't just now," he mumbles, looking down at the bed. "Getting...having someone fuck me."

"Okay, I'm gonna have to ask you something and I don't want you to take it badly."

"But," Buster says.

"But, you're kind of a bottom, aren't you?"

"Because I want to be fucked?" Buster asks with a scowl.

"Because you're more comfortable when I'm in the driver's seat."

"I don't want you grabbing my hair and shoving me down over your dick." Buster's still scowling.

"I'm not gonna do that, but maybe it's a good idea to let me touch you. So you can get used to the fact that you're in bed with a dude."

"What...." Buster pauses and clears his throat. "What do you want me to do?"

"I would like to help you relax."

Buster sighs, but he seems to be giving some thought to what Hunter said, so Hunter leans back and waits.

"What do you want...um, where do you want me?"

"On your side," Hunter says, smiling when Buster looks a little surprised. "And if you think you'll be comfortable, maybe you could take your jeans off. If it'll make it easier, I'll put my shorts back on."

"No, it's okay," Buster says. He still can't look at Hunter, but he pulls his jeans off and then settles down on the bed, his back to Hunter.

"All you have to do is tell me to stop," Hunter says as he moves into position behind Buster.

"Okay," Buster says. "I'm gonna be kind of tense."

"Really?" Hunter says with a slight laugh. "I wouldn't have guessed."

He's relieved when Buster laughs and even more relieved when Buster doesn't flinch when Hunter rests a hand on his hip. Buster's wearing boxers and the fabric is soft under Hunter's fingers as he strokes Buster's hip. Sliding a little closer, he kisses the back of Buster's neck again.

The result is the same; Buster sighs a little and his body relaxes some. It's an obvious shortcut and Hunter's more than happy to take advantage. He starts pressing soft kisses along the back of Buster's neck and then, he bites down a little, just below Buster's hair line.

"Oh," Buster gasps. He tilts his head forward a little and Hunter does it again.

"No marks," Hunter promises before biting a little harder.

"Thanks," Buster says. He's squirming now and when Hunter presses up against him, he doesn't tense up. "Yeah...oh wow...."

As Hunter starts kissing his way down the curve of Buster's neck and onto his shoulder, he finds himself wondering if Kristen ever did this. Hunter's never been all that into the idea of being someone's first, but it's kind of cool to know he's doing something no one's done for Buster.

"Oh God!" Buster hips buck back against Hunter when Hunter bites gently at the place where Buster's neck meets his shoulder. Hunter does it again and moves his hand up until it's resting against Buster's stomach. Buster's not extremely hairy, but he's got a nice line of hair that starts at his navel and heads down. Hunter runs his fingers over it, careful not to go too low and Buster squirms again.

"Good?" Hunter asks, his lips moving against Buster's skin.

"Mmmmm...yeah. Nice to have someone touch me."

"Yeah? It's nice to have someone to touch." It's been a while since Hunter and Savannah drifted apart and in that time, Hunter's been too busy playing ball to try and meet someone new. He's still aware that Buster's a dude, but while it's certainly different, it's not a total turn off. He nibbles at Buster's neck again and keeps stroking Buster's stomach.

"Moving up now," he says after a moment. Buster's relaxed enough that all he does is shiver when Hunter rests his hand on Buster's chest.

"Fuck," Buster yelps when, a moment later, Hunter rubs his thumb against his nipple. "That's...do that again."

Hunter does and Buster moans, which is distracting enough, but he also squirms--the soft cotton of his boxers rubbing against Hunter's dick. It feels pretty damn good and it's enough to get Hunter hard again. If Buster notices, it's not a problem. He doesn't seem to be aware of much of anything other than Hunter's fingers on his nipple.

"You never?" Hunter asks, although he's pretty sure he knows the answer.

"Never thought of it," Buster gasps. "It's...wow...you should probably stop. I mean if you want to do anything else."

Hunter, pauses and spreads his fingers out, resting his hand on Buster's chest. It's strange--he does this on women's stomachs, but never on their chests--but he kind of likes it. "Do you want something else?"

"I don't know," Buster says. "Maybe?" he adds with a little laugh.

"Can I jerk you off?"

"Yeah...that would be...yeah," Buster says. Then, as Hunter starts to slide his hand down, Buster reaches down and stops him. "Wait," he says. The Hunter's surprise, he pulls of his shorts, twisting a little as he does.

If asked, Hunter would probably say that Kontos has the best ass on the team maybe followed by Belt or possibly Bum. Now, staring as Buster settles down on his side again, Hunter's got to admit that Buster's been hiding a pretty nice ass in his uni pants.

Still, he's a little worried about getting too close to Buster's ass and freaking him out. "Do you want to roll over? On your back I mean. Because if you stay on your side...well, my dick's gonna be right there."

"Makes it hard to forget you're a guy. Although...I can't really. With you doing things. I'm used to being the one who...you know."

"That's why I figure you'd like it if I did the heavy lifting here." Hunter rests a hand on Buster's hip. "You don't have to be in control twenty-four, seven, you know." After grabbing the lube Buster left on the bed earlier, Hunter settles behind him. Buster catches his breath when Hunter's dick nudges up against one ass cheek, but then Hunter bites his shoulder again and that's enough to distract him.

Hunter slicks up his hand and then reaches down. He can feel Buster suck in a deep breath, but he doesn't flinch when Hunter wraps a hand around his dick. "Oh," Buster says, sounding almost surprised.

Pressing his mouth to the back of Buster's neck, Hunter kisses him and starts slowly jerking him off. "Oh," Buster says again. "Oh God...." Hunter's not sure if Buster even knows that he's moving, but he is--arching into Hunter's touch in a way that's pretty distracting.

"You good?" he says, his mouth moving against the sweat damp skin of Buster's neck.

"Yeah," Buster gasps. Hunter can feel his neck bend a little and then Buster says, "You have...fucking gorgeous hands."

"Yeah? You looking at my hand on you?"

"Uh huh...never thought I'd see a guy's hand on my dick like that...so fucking hot."

"Mmmmmm...hot from this side too." And it is, more than Hunter had expected. Buster's solid against him--much bigger than anyone Hunter's ever had sex with and making him squirm and moan like this is one hell of a power trip. He speeds up a little, rubbing his thumb against the head of Buster's cock on each upstroke. "Wanna come like this?"

Buster stops moving and so does Hunter; his hand going still on Buster's dick. Then Buster moves again, pressing his ass back against Hunter's dick. It's easy enough to guess what he wants, but Hunter finds himself hesitating.

"I hate to do this, but you need to stop and think here."

"Um...you might want to move your hand then," Buster says with a huff of breathless laughter. Once Hunter's resting his hand on Buster's hip, Buster says, "what do I need to think about?"

"Two things," Hunter says. "One, there's a big difference between touching a guy's dick and having it up your ass." Buster catches his breath. "Yeah, my point exactly. Also, you're catching tomorrow. No matter how careful I am, you'll be feeling it."

"There is that." Buster sounds almost relieved.

"But," Hunter says. "If you trust me...."

Buster rolls until he's on his back, looking up at Hunter. His face, neck and chest are flushed, and his bottom lip looks swollen, like he's been biting it. "I wouldn't be here," he says. "If I didn't trust you."

"Okay." Hunter smiles at him. "Would you be comfortable rolling over?"

Buster bites his lip. "I think I could do that."

"If not...."

"No," Buster says. "It's...the idea is really hot." He laughs a little nervously. "You...you're right, you know."

"About?"

"Me being a bottom." Buster closes his eyes.

"Nothing wrong with that," Hunter says. "But I can see where it makes...your situation more difficult."

"You mean the part where I'm horribly repressed?"

"I wouldn't put in that way," Hunter says. "For one thing, you're doing something about it."

"Not sure what good it's going to do me."

"Hey," Hunter says. Buster opens his eyes and looks at him. "It's like coming up in September. At least you know you can hack being in the big leagues."

Buster laughs and relaxes a little. "That's one way of putting it." He looks at Hunter for a long moment and then nods. "Okay," he says and rolls over onto his stomach.

"Lift up for a sec," Hunter says, grabbing one of his extra pillows. Once he slides it under Buster's hips, he rests a hand on the small of Buster's back. "You know something? You've got a great ass."

"You think?"

"Yeah. Too bad you have to wear your uni pants a little baggy." Hunter runs his hand down the curve of Buster's ass. When Buster doesn't flinch or tense up, Hunter keeps stroking him. "I know you don't think so or maybe you feel weird about it, but you're really pretty hot."

"I just...it's like being...being gay, you know?"

"Nice Georgia boys don't think about that stuff?"

"Yeah...oh!" Buster gasps as Hunter runs his fingers carefully along the crack of his ass.

Hunter does it again and Buster catches his breath and spreads his legs a little. Oh yeah, Hunter thinks; he's pretty sure Buster did that without really thinking about it. He's still careful to keep his touch light, even when Buster spreads his legs more and starts moving just a little.

"Fuck," Buster mutters when Hunter rubs a finger behind his balls. "Oh fuck...I...."

"It's gonna get better," Hunter says.

In spite of his words, Buster tenses up again. "Trust me," Hunter murmurs, resting his other hand between Buster's shoulder blades. He rubs his thumb across the back of Buster's neck.

"You're cheating," Buster says with a little huff of nervous laughter.

"Hey, whatever it takes."

Buster shivers a little. "Well? Go on then."

He's still tense and he gets even more tense when Hunter strokes a finger across his hole. "I...fuck...I can't...."

"Too weird?"

"Yes," Buster says. And then, before Hunter can do anything, Buster adds, "no. I don't...do it again."

Hunter does and Buster jerks like he's touched a live wire. Jesus, Hunter thinks. He hasn't found a single inch of Buster that isn't incredibly sensitive. Sad enough that Buster seems to be touch starved, but the idea that he's been denying himself this kind of sensation makes Hunter want to make it as good as possible.

"Hold on," he says, grabbing the lube.

"Oh...oh fuck...." Buster arches a little when Hunter touches him again.

"Better, yeah?"

"Yeah...really...this is...." Buster sucks in a harsh breath. "More...God, Hunter...more."

He's tight, but Hunter expected that. "Try to relax," he says, slowly pressing a finger in.

"Trying," Buster says. "'m okay," he adds when Hunter pauses. "This isn't...it's better than when I tried."

"Good."

He takes it slow--slow and careful--and gradually Buster relaxes. Buster's making these little sounds, sort of choked off sighs and moans, and then--and Hunter's not quite sure why--Buster yelps and his hips buck up.

"Oh fuck...that...do that again!"

Oh duh, Hunter thinks. He carefully twists his finger until he's brushing against the same spot.

Buster's louder this time and, as Hunter keeps rubbing his prostate, he starts moving...shoving up against Hunter's hand with complete abandon. "Yeah," Hunter says. "Oh yeah, Buster...that's it...that's good."

"Fuck," Buster groans. "Oh fuck...I'm gonna...oh God...I...oh fuck fuck fuck!"

Hunter can feel it as Buster comes and, wow, that's kind of hot. He does his best to make it last and finally, Buster slumps down on the bed panting harshly. When Hunter eases out carefully, Buster shudders and moans softly.

"It's okay," Hunter says quietly.

"Mmmmm...yeah," Buster mumbles as his breathing begins to slow. "That was...sweet Jesus, that was amazing."

When Buster rolls over, he's smiling--a real smile that reaches his eyes. "Sorry about your pillow," he says, gesturing vaguely at the pillow.

"Never mind the pillow," Hunter says, staring down at him in surprise. He'd once wondered what a relaxed Buster Posey would look like and now he knows. Buster's sprawled out on the bed, legs spread a little and one hand resting on his slick hip. He looks utterly debauched and totally blissed out.

Wow, Hunter thinks.

"What?" Buster asks and Hunter can't help wondering what his own face looks like.

"You look...."

"Relaxed? Comfortable?" Buster says with a little laugh. "Sticky?"

"Happy," Hunter says.

"Yeah, that too." Buster stares up at the ceiling for a long moment. "Nope...not gonna freak out. Not yet at least."

"Glad to hear it."

"But," Buster says, reaching out to rest his hand on Hunter's thigh. "I feel like I should do something for you."

"You don't have...."

"Too bad you can't fuck me," Buster says. "And I'm really not ready to blow someone, but I could jerk you off."

"Or," Hunter says and then pauses. "I could...if you want to know what it's like to have a guy on top of you...."

Instead of tensing up, Buster just looks interested. "What?"

"I could rub off on you. If you don't mind getting even stickier."

"Huh...saw that in that one porno I watched." After a moment, Buster nods. "Yeah, I think I'd like that. What do I...."

"All you've gotta do is lie there," Hunter says, reaching for the lube.

"Yeah, I can do that. Hell," Buster adds with a smile. "That's about all I can do...still feel pretty boneless."

Hoping he's not making a mistake, Hunter slicks up his dick...and yeah, he's been ignoring it as much as he could, but damn, he's pretty close. When he moves in between Buster's legs, Buster surprises him by reaching for him. Hunter leans down and Buster slides his arms around Hunter's waist and pulls him down on top of him.

Hunter tries to take it slow, but once his dick nudges against Buster's hip, he can't help shoving hard.

"Yeah, it's okay," Buster murmurs, his hands moving on Hunter's back.

It only takes a moment; Hunter thrusts against Buster's hip a few more times and then comes hard. It's pretty fucking amazing, and when Buster presses down on the small of Hunter's back, Hunter sprawls on top of him, breathless and relaxed.

"Well," Buster says after several minutes. "That was...pretty gay."

Hunter goes up on one elbow and looks down at him. Buster's smiling and he still looks relaxed and happy. Still, Hunter can't help asking, "you okay?"

"Yeah. It's...you're solid and you smell like a guy. I like it." He raises his eyebrows. "Are you okay? I mean...you're the straight one here."

"I prefer hetero-flexible," Hunter says. "I'm good, although we're gonna be stuck together if I don't get off you." He rolls off and they lie next to each other for a while.

"It's not," Buster finally says. "I'm not totally...over it." He sounds almost apologetic. "I'm okay now but later...."

"No, I get what you're saying," Hunter says. "I was thinking...you really should spend the night. Or at least promise to call me if you need to."

"I'll stay," Buster says.

"Good. We can order pizza and watch something."

Halfway through their second episode of Gold Rush: Alaska, Buster sighs and Hunter turns the TV off.

"This sucks," Buster says, his face tight and his brow furrowed.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. One evening isn't going to change everything."

"Yeah," Buster says. "I just...all of a sudden, I thought about how you came on me. How I came with your finger...in me."

"Weird?" Hunter asks after a moment's silence.

"Yeah, because I liked it."

Hunter nods. "That night in San Diego," he says. "I don't know if you remember, but you said something about being afraid you'd like it."

"I don't remember that, but it's something I've thought about. Like I said earlier, it's pretty gay."

"I think it's more than the gay," Hunter says.

"Oh?"

"When we were in bed, I spent most of the time thinking about how you'd react and what I could do to get a reaction and would this work or would that work." Buster starts to say something and Hunter shakes his head. "No, I'm not complaining, but when you were having sex with her, was it like that? Almost detached from what you were doing?"

Buster stares off into the distance for a moment. "Yeah, it was." He goes quiet again and Hunter gives him time to work it through. "You're saying that I'm scared because someone else was in control?"

"It's not like you don't know you're a control freak," Hunter says.

To his relief, Buster smiles. "I'm a catcher." He pauses for a second and then runs a hand through his hair. "I can't believe I just said that."

"Whoever came up with that whole catcher equals bottom thing never met a real catcher in his life. But yeah, I think that's part of it."

"Huh," Buster says, looking more thoughtful than nervous. "Thing is, today...today was okay because I know you. I trust you. And yeah, I'm still going to have to work through some of this stuff, but." He sighs.

"But?"

"Who am I going to work it through with? I really don't think I'm going to...what did you say? Imprint on you like a baby duck?"

"Yeah. Sorry about that; it was kind of tactless."

"No, it was upfront and I appreciate it. But you see what I mean, right? Even if I could just, I dunno, cruise some gay bar--which I can't--I don't know that I'd trust whoever I found. And I wouldn't want to ask someone I don't know to deal with my issues either."

"Yeah, I see what you mean." Hunter pauses and takes a deep breath. "Here's the thing. How much do you really trust me?"

Buster looks at him for a long moment. "Why?"

"Because...look, I could talk to someone and see if he's interested in an unspecified teammate and then talk to you about him and get back to him...."

"Or you could just go to someone and say, what? Posey's gay, you wanna fuck him?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Buster looks shocked for a moment and then laughs. "Without telling me who? You want to set me up on a blind date?"

"Yeah."

"I...." Buster gets up and walks over to the window. It's dark and though AT&T's not lit up, he looks in that direction anyway. "You asked me what I was looking for...a fuck buddy or a boyfriend or what."

"Yeah."

"I still don't know."

"I'm not a total yenta. I'm not trying to introduce you to The One. I mean if it turns out that way, great, but right now I'm looking to set you up with someone you know. Someone who would never dream of outing you even if it doesn't work out. Someone you can, hopefully, trust. Someone who knows what it's like to be...well I'd have to use queer here. Queer in the MLB."

After a long moment, Buster turns and looks at Hunter. "I have said, on more than one occasion, that I love this entire fucking team."

"Yeah, you have. Give me a day or two and I'll set something up."

"Okay," Buster says. "Long as they don't think I'm easy."

Hunter can't help laughing a little. "Buster? You're anything but easy."

 

* * *

Okay, here's how this goes. Being me, I kind of wanted to go with the idea not only is Buster a big ol' bottom, he's actually kinda subby, too. But I also wanted to do something less kinky as well. So, I made this a kind of choose your own ending thing.

If you like the idea of Buster getting just somewhat subby and mildly kinky with Brandon Belt, read [You Make Loving Fun](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1180925)

If you like the idea of a whole romantic thing happening between Buster and Timmy read [Sweet, Wonderful You](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1180938)

Or you could, you know, read both. :)


End file.
